


half dead to you

by alderations



Series: indigo [1]
Category: The Bifrost Incident - The Mechanisms (Album), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Prison Mechs - Freeform, references to temporary character death (mechs-typical), someday i will write something that is not a songfic, today is not that day :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alderations/pseuds/alderations
Summary: The train, the prison, the cell, the… inspector. Until about thirty seconds ago, Marius would have sworn that he felt nothing but immortal contempt for Lyfrassir.
Relationships: Lyfrassir Edda/Marius von Raum, polymechs if you squint
Series: indigo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869556
Comments: 15
Kudos: 141





	half dead to you

**Author's Note:**

> cw for canon-typical mentions of character death (Marius neglecting to, like, be a living human), and mentions of Raphaella experimenting on people for fun

Lyf is so much  _ softer  _ when they’re asleep. Their dark eyelashes barely rest on their cheeks, fluttering now and again when their breath picks up, and their hair glimmers in the dawn light where a handful of strands have come loose from their braid. One of their hands is curled in front of their chest, fingers curving so delicately even though Marius knows those hands are capable of just as much power as his own. Their other hand is… Marius has to think about it for a second, groggy as he is, but their other hand is curled around the nape of his neck, swirling meaningless patterns through Marius’s hair. He suppresses a shiver on the off-chance that it could wake them up. He  _ can’t  _ wake them up, not when they’re here, so close to him and so unguarded. Their chest is sprawled across his flesh arm, and he lost feeling in those fingers hours ago, but he won’t move them. He won’t shift his face away from Lyf’s even though he’s pretty sure the air between them is running low on oxygen (he’s a doctor, he knows these things). All he can feel is Lyf’s breath warm and whispering across his face, over and over, and something in him aches deeper than he realized he could. He wants to kiss them, to feel the slight tickle of their beard scratching against his chin, but that might wake them and he can’t have that. Not when things are so perfect. Not when his hand is asleep and his lungs are tight and Lyf’s hair is tickling his face and their hand is scratching at his neck and—

Marius wakes with a sharp inhale, which is frankly much better than usual. For a few seconds, he’s bewildered by the tiny cot under him and the cement wall inches from his face, until he hears Raphaella humming something discordant from behind him and remembers everything. The train, the prison, the cell, the… inspector. Until about thirty seconds ago, Marius would have sworn that he felt nothing but immortal contempt for Lyfrassir, but what remains of those feelings is intangible under the frothing current of melancholy that drowns him.  _ That  _ is not a feeling that Baron Dr. Marius Von Raum has, and he will continue to tell himself such until the feeling goes the  _ fuck  _ away.

Needless to say, Marius spends another forty-eight hours pretending to sleep, pretending not to hear Ivy and Raphaella snickering at his back, pretending that the stupidly tender dream isn’t crouching in the back of his throat like it’s ready to choke him every time he drops his guard. His ribs ache. After the first day of moping, he can’t tell if he’s more upset about the dream itself or the unfortunate reality that he is, apparently, not immune to emotions that aren’t Anger and Murderousness. But he doesn’t want to think about that, so he screws his eyes shut again and tries not to let his shoulders shake as he scrambles for anything else to think about. He’s only interrupted when, on day three, Lyf makes their way down to the cell to question them about some boring police bullshit again.

“Alexandria,” they start, apparently keen on addressing the least irritating member of the trio. The sound of their voice twists the knife in Marius’s throat. “Where does your expertise lie with regards to, ah, machine learning?”

“My personality  _ is _ machine learning, if that’s what you call it here,” Ivy deadpans.

Lyf makes a sound that Marius assumes is a sigh, but it’s too quiet for him to really make out. “Great. Cryptic as ever. Can you take a look at this program?” Their footsteps shuffle closer, and Marius feels his shoulders tense even as he struggles to keep feigning sleep.

For a few minutes, he’s almost able to block out Lyf and Ivy’s voices as they examine whatever the fuck Lyf was investigating today, but Marius’s ears still prickle with uncomfortable warmth. He wants _out._ He’s not really paying attention when Lyf’s voice grows louder again, apparently irritated with something Ivy told them, until their voice cuts off suddenly. Then, tentative: “...wait, you’re not going to start singing?”

Marius must’ve missed a cue. He can’t even begin to muster the energy for music right now.

Raphaella picks up his slack, though it’s clear she has no intention of defending him. “I figured we would, but Marius is too busy pouting. Come back later?”

“He—he’s not asleep?”

“He’s been pretending to sleep for the past forty-three hours and thirty-six minutes,” Ivy chimes in. “We figured it would be best to let… whatever this is run its course.”

They’re all trying to get a rise out of him. Marius is not going to fall for it.

“Does he not need to… eat something? Von Raum, when’s the last time you had some water?”

Okay, so ‘Lyfrassir Edda giving the slightest sliver of a fuck about his well-being’ is not a contingency Marius has planned for. “Fuck off, Edda,” he growls, mentally kicking himself for giving in.

“Ooh, sour Marius,” Raphaella laughs. “What’s got you in such a mood,  _ Baron?” _

Marius sits up, knowing full well that he looks ridiculous with a scowl carved into his face and his hair mussed in every direction. It’s not like Lyf cares. Besides, as a perfectly respectable psychologist, Marius resents being called  _ sour.  _ “I’ve been stuck in a concrete block with  _ you  _ for fifty years. Ever think of  _ that?” _

He wanted it to be cutting, to hurt someone other than himself, but Raphaella just rolls her eyes. “And a spaceship for millennia before that, but I’ve never heard you complaining. The Inspector’s right, you know, dying of dehydration is  _ not  _ a good use of an afternoon. I would know.”

Raphaella has died by every means she can possibly concoct, so Marius doesn’t doubt her, but his pride is still more important than whatever game she’s playing. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion, la Cognizi. Good  _ night.”  _ He throws himself back onto the cot and curls his metal arm over his face to block out the dingy light, but it’s not enough to keep Lyf’s soft voice at bay.

“He’s not actually going to die, right? I’d rather not have that much paperwork on my hands.”

Marius huffs and presses his hands over his ears. He’s not sure how long he waits, counting his heartbeat in his ears and willing Lyf to take his advice and fuck off, but some god must have heard his pleas, because when Raphaella and Ivy pull him off the cot again, Lyf is gone.

“What do you want now,” he groans, letting himself go ragdoll-limp in their grip as they frog-march him over to Ivy’s cot. It’s functionally the same as Marius’s, just covered in fragments of stolen books, but it’s still a change of scenery. Before he can curl up and ignore them again, they’re seated on either side of him, bracketing him in with arms around his shoulders and Raph’s hand gripping his knee like he’s a kid misbehaving in church.

“Marius,” Ivy begins, “first of all, you have sixty-five minutes until you actually die of thirst.”

He begrudgingly gulps the glass of water she offers, even though he hasn’t noticed the urge to do so until now. On his other side, Raphaella pats his hair in some twisted show of compassion. “We’re scientific minds, Marius. So forgive us for forming a hypothesis—”

“A theory, really—”

“Yes, a theory. Seeing as you have refused to move for three days, only to jump up and start cursing the moment Inspector Edda arrived, we only have two conclusions to draw here.”

Marius doesn’t like the direction this conversation is taking.

“Our first hypothesis,” Ivy blazes on, “is that you’ve finally grown tired of irritating the Inspector after all this time. In that case, we assume you would already have begun hunting them for sport. Obviously.”

Marius  _ despises  _ the direction this conversation is taking.

“Since that doesn’t track, the theory we’ve developed is rather the opposite. Given ample evidence, we believe that you, our most level-headed and infallible doctor”—now Raphaella’s just mocking Marius—“have an enormous crush on a fucking cop.”

His metal hand twitches, already reaching for Raphaella’s throat to make her  _ shut up, _ but Ivy has it pinned tight against her side in a cruel facsimile of hand-holding. “On the one hand, said cop mostly just drools over trains all day, so they’re relatively harmless. On the other hand, there is a sixty-five percent chance that they genuinely hate you with every fibre of their being.”

“Wait, only sixty-five?” Marius is kicking himself before the words are all the way out of his mouth. He has committed the fatal sin of admitting weakness in front of Raphaella and Ivy, and he might as well start literally digging his own grave. Again. “Whatever. You can’t prove anything.”

“Yes, Marius, that  _ is _ the definition of a theory.” Raphaella sounds like she’s explaining the scientific method to a preschooler.

He huffs and stares at the floor just to avoid even a glimpse of his crewmates’ smug faces. “I’m really not in the mood to psychoanalyze myself right now.”

“Basic awareness of your emotions is not the same thing as psychoanalysis,” Ivy corrects him.

“It’s—it’s not  _ basic  _ if my fucking dreams aren’t on the same page as the rest of me, it’s subconscious bullshit and I will not be held accountable for it!”

They’re silent for a moment, and then Raphaella moves her hand from his knee to his shoulder, softer now. “Oh, Marius. You sweet, repressed idiot.”

“I am not  _ sweet,”  _ he growls.

“That may be true. But we’re not going to sit here for another decade or so watching you mope because you’re allergic to feelings.”

That sounds fine to Marius, but he knows he’s not going to win this fight. “What do you suggest then, genius science officer?”

“Could always try and seduce them? You’ve got plenty of charm when you work for it,” Raphaella replies with a wink. They’ve known each other for thousands of years and Marius still goes a bit red when Raph looks at him like that, but he feels that’s a fair reaction for someone as uniquely, inhumanly attractive as her.

He shakes those thoughts aside. “If I seduce a cop,  _ intentionally,  _ Jonny will keep me in the brig until the heat death of the universe.”

Ivy tilts her head as if that helps her internal calculator do its work. “There’s an eighty-four percent chance he’d get bored and let you out after a few millennia.”

“And it would be fun to watch,” Raphaella adds. “I’d take notes. Actually, I could probably draft a procedure for this experiment if you give me a few—”

“You will  _ not  _ run experiments on my seduceability!”

They’re looking at each other over his head now, apparently having a conversation with their eyebrows alone, and Marius knows he’s in for trouble. Whatever. They can dissect his organs all they want, as long as they don’t harass him about Lyf. For whom he harbors exactly zero feelings, regardless of what his brain seems to think.

And if, as Raphaella catalogs his responses to the most fucked-up Rorschach test he’s ever seen (and that’s saying something), he replays the imaginary sensation of Lyf’s fingers in his hair, that’s no one’s business but his own.

**Author's Note:**

> hi I'm back with songfic again hello here's your recommended listening (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A67d6wsneTU) this song deeply upsets me so of course I have to write about it. via Marius. thanks Marius.
> 
> this WILL be continued but I didn't want to curse myself by setting this up as a chaptered fic, and also there might be smut eventually so I figured I'd separate that. Leave a comment if you enjoyed (or have, uh, feedback on the general readability here, I've been writing late at night again lol)! Kudos are also appreciated and beloved. Thanks for reading <3
> 
> find me on tumblr or twitter @alderations!!


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